𝐆𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐬| 𝐜. 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

#₁₅

✧･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ:* ───────────── *:･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧
  ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

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#¹⁵ WHY SO SAD? MUSIC BOX
BALLERINA
9:15 pm

✧･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ:* ───────────── *:･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧

"Reiner, Floch and gasp Connie Ma parole (my word) how graceful yet so strong! You may have a future in ballet dear boy." Hange cried out,
dancing her way back to the middle.
1:10 ─|──────── 6:43
|◁ II ▷|

trigger warning: some depictions of past abuse, trauma, setting off of triggers, and mentions of panic attacks. please read at your own caution.

✧･ﾟ*✧･ﾟ:* ───────────── *:･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ✧

       The door to the separate changing room closed behind Connie with a soft thud, the small sound nearly making him jump out of his skin due to how on edge he was. He gripped his arm so tightly that his finger nails dug into the scarred skin of his arms as he turned to face the floor length mirror, facing away from Armin who was arranging the rolls of fabric over a stand towards the back of the room.

"So uh, how does this kind of thing work?" He mumbled nervously, taking the seat Armin motioned him towards.

"Calliope and I have been chosen along with five other groups of designers to put together our own spring collection with a theme of our choice. We were allowed no more than ten models so we really wanted you and Y/N to be apart of it."

"R-Really? That's so nice, the same kind of thing happened with Y/N and I in dance class where we got put on the spot to create a choreo right then and there. This school sure loves to put it's favorites in the hot-seat." Connie offered a shaky smile, trying his hardest to keep it all together.

"Yea I know, it's so weird having so many eyes on me when I'm working. I didn't think things would get this competitive so quickly. But for now, I really need to get your exact measurements, can we start with your arms?"

"S-Sure o-okay." The buzzcut male stood, nervously swallowing before extending an arm.

"My hands won't touch you okay? Just the tape, which can be pretty cold." Armin added softly, trying as best he could to help his friend relax as much as possible.

      Armin worked quickly, softly humming a song that helped Connie calm down, only pausing between measurements to jot down the numbers into his notebook.

"Okay, now it's time for your stomach. Can I touch you?" He asked carefully, providing a safe distance between himself and Connie. After reviving a nod, Armin reached out to wrap the tape around his stomach when tattooed man clutched his wrist tightly.